


Memoir

by Pigeon



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-07
Updated: 2006-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeon/pseuds/Pigeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small discourse on Jack and his memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memoir

Jack’s memory is a wonder.

It is prodigious-

 _He can recall every repair to_ The Pearl _under his Captaincy (a phenomenal list considering their line of work), describe each of the men who have ever shot him (not notable perhaps for their number so much as the various states of inebriation Jack found himself in prior to his acquiring a piece of metal in some part of his anatomy), name each of the eight sisters who took his virginity at the tender age of 14 (along with florid details as to what each of the eight looked like, sounded like, smelt like, tasted like…), and extol every single freckle on Will Turner’s body (something he tends to do to anyone within listening distance whilst in his cups and out of Will’s sword range)._

It is full of holes-

 _Much of his past escapes him, he’s a curiosity as to the reason behind the tattoo (just north of his left buttock) that spells out_ ‘kitten’ _(in the most entirely unmanly and curlicue-d lettering), and he sometimes wonders about the years he spent between his childhood (begging, and stealing, and conning money and food on the fog bound London streets) and the day he found himself in the bright sun of the Caribbean (hung over and lying on fine burning sand just East of Tortuga)._

But mostly it is sporadic-

 _Memories mislaid have a habit of popping up at the most odd moments (once, notably, when he was buried hilt-deep in the lad he had the realisation that ‘Jack’ was not a darling-name for Jonathan as he’d presumed, rather his dear old mum- not much missed and now hopefully departed- had baptised him Johanne Bethesda Sparrow, which had thrown him off his rhythm considerably and resulted in him sporting a very fine black eye after Will failed to grasp what was so uproariously funny)._

So it was never quite the shock it might have been when, awake in the thin grey hours before dawn, wrapped in blankets and knocking knees with the boy, a scene from his past burst, fully formed and vivid as the sun, into his mind-

 _Bill and him, tankards in hand, the gloomy interior of a little English inn that smelt of seaweed and burnt mutton, an old soak snoring in the corner._

 _And a tall, pretty, skinny sort of lass striding through the door, fair hair loose, eyes tired and pinched, a small toddling thing balanced on one hip._

 _And one hell of a slap._

 _Oddly not connecting with Jack’s much abused cheek, but instead coming to a resounding stop on Bill’s._

 _“Bastard!”_

 _Bill’s eyes a little bit wide by this point. “We’ve met?”_

 _“Aye! This little one,” she hefted the boy, who couldn’t have yet seen two years, higher. “Didn’t ‘xactly arrive on his own did he?!”_

 _Bill’s mouth opening wide, and a curiously strangled noise emanating from it. Then, finally, “Mine?”_

 _And then the girl turning and shoving the little lad straight at Jack, who was still bringing up his hands to catch the mite, less he fall to the stone floor, as his mother turned back to face, and yell at, Bill._

 _The boy was small. Large dark eyes and a mop of light brown hair. A round little face, pale and only a bit dirty._

 _“Hello,” Jack looking down at the boy, then glancing around for any passing female to unload him on._

 _The girl still screeching at Bill, all violent hand gestures and menacing looks._

 _“Think your mum’s a bit fierce, lad. Looks a bit of a bruiser to tell truth.”_

 _The little boy staring up, face solemn and quiet._

Jack’s memory is a wonder.

And with Will’s limbs all tangled and awkward with his, and the cabin still sheathed in shadow Jack decides to forget all and go back to sleep.


End file.
